


My Choice

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Claiming, F/M, Knotting, Light Bondage, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentioned Pregnancy, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fortunately for Draco, he gets to oversee certain Omegas’ detentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Choice

**Author's Note:**

> An old entry for an [A/B/O fest on LJ.](http://instinctivelust.livejournal.com/11682.html)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

One of the many, many perks to being the headmaster’s son is having private quarters on campus. It isn’t his campus, of course. Draco attends an elite Alpha school in Bulgaria. But his father runs the best Omega school in England, and as they’re only a simple Floo trip away, Draco is quite happy to lounge around the Omega school whenever he’s finished his Alpha lessons.

Another of the wonderful perks to being the headmaster’s son is getting to be involved in the Omega curriculum. Draco doesn’t want extra work, of course. He never volunteers to help in homework or tutoring, but he’s more than happy to administer detentions. Today his father tells him, “That’s alright, she wouldn’t be a good match for you anyway.”

Draco doesn’t argue, although he knows her blood is pure. He’s sprawled out in the armchair across from his father’s desk, back to the stretching, floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelf. The grand windows behind Lucius Malfoy’s desk backlight him in a regal sort of glow. Lucius is pouring over a half-unfurled scroll, leaning on his elbow with one hand to his temple. After a moment, Draco drawls, “Why should that matter, Father? I’ve run detentions with plenty of Omegas I don’t plan to claim.”

Without looking up, Lucius replies casually, “She’s in heat at the moment. We can’t have you knocking up a girl you have no intentions of claiming.” Straightening, Lucius signs at the bottom and rolls up the scroll. “It doesn’t matter; we’ll find someone else to punish her. Select members of my staff are getting restless anyway; I can’t let you have all the fun.”

Draco frowns. He doesn’t necessarily get all the fun, although he’s definitely treated with favour. A part of him doesn’t want to know who’ll be taking the girl, but the other part asks, “Select members?”

“Greyback,” Lucius clarifies, with thinly veiled disgust. “Merlin knows he doesn’t mind impregnating an unclaimed Omega.”

The thought of the girl getting thrown into Greyback’s harem twists Draco’s stomach more than he’d care to admit. Trying not to show it on his face, he insists, “Father, that’s very harsh. Surely she hasn’t done anything to warrant seeing him?”

“She hit another Omega on the back of the head with a textbook,” Lucius snorts, “Seemed to think she was chasing away ‘nargles’ or some such creature. I’m ashamed we even have such nonsense in Hogwarts. She needs to be taught a lesson.”

“I want to teach her.”

Lucius looks up from his desk for the first time, quill paused over a third scroll. Draco holds his gaze levelly. Draco isn’t particularly marvelous at standing up to his father, but Alpha school is making him better at it. After a moment, Draco adds, “I’ll use protective spells,” even though he isn’t entirely sure he intends to. As much as he prefers the proper way of doing things—claim an Omega first, then mate with them—breeding her would help secure her as his once they’re able to petition for it. Not that he doesn’t think he could win a fight for her. And it’s unlikely other Alphas will jump to want her anyway. But Draco comes from a very elite family, and he knows that if he does pursue her, it’ll be a difficult task to get around them.

It’s a challenge he’s up to. When he doesn’t waver, Lucius eventually nods, a smirk dawning on his lips. “I have taught you to go after what you want, but I will advise you to be more discerning with what those things are. ...I’ll have her sent to your quarters at eight o’clock, after her next class.”

Draco tries to restrain his own smirk. “Thank you, Father.”

Lucius gives him a curt nod: a dismissal. Draco stands and walks out of the office, the grin only properly unleashing once his back is turned.

* * *

Luna Lovegood stumbles into his quarters at precisely a quarter after, shoved through the door by an irritated Rodolphus Lestrange. “I found her wandering around the cafeteria. Apparently she has detention with you.”

“Thank you,” Draco nods, strolling over to pick Luna up by the elbow. His disgruntled uncle-in-law leaves, and Draco asks, while she brushes off her skirt, “Nargles again?” He’s unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Yes, actually.” She flips her long, sunshine hair over her shoulder. “How’d you know?”

Draco doesn’t answer. That’s how he deals with her a lot of the time, and she usually seems to accept it. He takes a minute to make sure Rodolphus didn’t touch her, but her uniform seems mostly in place. Her white button-up top is smooth and wrinkle-free, the cap sleeves slightly frilled on the ends. Her collar is turned over, flat against her collarbone, and she’s wearing a black choker with a little silver symbol on it, a line inside a circle inside a triangle. Her skirt cuts off mid-thigh, barely covering anything, and her knee-high socks are mismatched—one is white and one is beige. She doesn’t have earrings today—Draco wonders absently if they’ve finally beaten it out of her. There’s a certain way Omegas are supposed to dress, and Luna isn’t very good at that.

Draco isn’t fully sure why he doesn’t mind. As the son of Lucius Malfoy, he’s been privileged to be exposed to Omegas since he was a child, and he’s always had his pick of the litter. They’ve always been clawing to get to him, of course. Why wouldn’t they? He’s powerful and affluent, very rich, and _very_ handsome. When he strolls through their cooking classes, they always clamour for him to try their food, and they’re always offering to clean his quarters or to sew him things. It isn’t allowed yet, of course, but they’re also always offering more... adult favours. Luna is the only Omega that’s never really jumped for his attention, and he thinks that perhaps that might have something to do with it.

Today is a different story. He can already tell that she’s in heat, even if he hadn’t been told. He can smell it on her. After a moment, she starts to sway under his gaze, shifting restlessly on her feet. She clasps her hands behind her back, which has the effect of making her look both adorable and very sexy—it pushes her chest forward. Even if she might not be completely right in the head, there would be no denying she’s attractive. She has a pretty, soft face, and permanent bedroom eyes. They always seem to be half-lidded, and her silvery irises look up at him through long, thick lashes. Her frame is small and her waist is thin, but her breasts and hips are more than ample. She has all the ‘right’ curves that his family would want in his mate, and her delicate, pale skin seems to glow with her heat cycle.

She breaks convention by speaking first when he takes too long. “I’ve been bad?”

Wrenching his eyes back up to her face, Draco repeats tightly, “You’ve been bad.” He tries not to smirk; he tries to look stern.

She bites her lower lip. “I don’t know what I did.”

“You hit a girl with a textbook.”

Luna’s pout doesn’t look coy; her eyebrows knit together; she’s genuinely confused. “She had nargles.”

Draco’s torn between sarcastically going along with this and sighing, “You still can’t hit other Omegas.”

Luna’s confusion dissipates instantly, and she chirps a vague, “Oh.” He isn’t sure she actually understands it, but there’s no point pressing the issue. With Luna, there rarely is. Instead, he reaches out to grab her wrist, turning to tug her across the room. Behind him, she says in a spacey sort of way, “I like your uniform.”

He smirks, “Naturally.” He knows he looks stunning in his uniform. Crisp, black pants and a white button-up, similar to what males at her school wear. Except he gets a sharp jacket with a crest above his heart, green and sporting a snake. His tie is green and silver—he was born under the Slytherin star. She was born under Ravenclaw, but he isn’t surprised that she’s apparently lost her blue and grey tie.

His quarters are in the dungeon of the school, as per his request—the same as his dormitories back at Durmstrang. The room is dressed darkly, with deep-green, elaborate rugs warming the floor and rich, mahogany bookcases lining the walls. He passes his fireplace and sofa, right to the back, where his four-poster bed lies between tall windows that peer into the lake water. They cast an eerie, coloured glow about the room. He takes her right to the foot of the bed and turns her around, so her back is facing it.

While he’s leaning in, she starts to say, “How are you going to—” He cuts her off with his lips.

Normally, Luna might simply wait him out, then continue the conversation after he finishes like nothing ever happened. Today, it’s _that_ time. He can feel her body overriding everything else, and she only leans into him, her hands slowly lifting to his shoulders.

He presses his tongue forward; she parts her lips. He dives inside and lifts a hand to the back of her head, sliding through her soft hair. She mewls as he fists in it, his other hand dipping down her back, pulling her in by her thin waist. She wraps her arms tighter around him, arching into it. Draco doesn’t hold anything back. He kisses her hard, fervently; his hormones are getting every bit as high as hers. He’s drawn to her. He can _feel_ that her body’s ready, calling out to him to claim it. He traces the lines of her teeth and the roof of her mouth, their tongues dueling between them. She’s warm all over, and he makes it harder for her to breathe on purpose. Her breasts are flattened into his chest, trembling with every breath. His fingers dip even lower—he squeezes her full, round ass through her skirt. She gasps into his mouth; he pulls away to let her get air.

Lips wet and red, Luna asks, “Are we going to have sex?” Draco snorts. It’s so blunt and inappropriate and _Luna_ , and he really doesn’t think he’ll ever find another Omega as amusing as her.

He growls, “Yes,” and shoves her abruptly back onto the bed. She bounces on the sheets, and he bends to crawl over her; she doesn’t get it and lifts up on her elbows. He chuckles and nods towards the headboard, ordering, “Up.”

Luna awkwardly shifts further up the bed, until her head hits the pillows. Then she falls back down and lifts her arms to his shoulders—he’s followed her along. He bends down to kiss her again. She meets him halfway, eager and begging for it. He runs one hand down her body and cups her face with the other, thumbing her cheek fondly. Her fingers slip down his shoulders—she tries to undo the top button of his jacket.

He parts their lips and slaps her hand away, grumbling, “Luna, no.”

She says, “Sorry,” but she doesn’t look sorry. Just odd, like usual. He sighs and hangs his head—really? No wonder he gets more detentions with her than any other Omega, even though she’s neither particularly rowdy nor unintelligent.

Looking at her with as scolding a face as he can manage, he asks, “Don’t they teach you anything here? You’re being trained to be a proper _Omega_ —you can’t lead an Alpha.”

Luna tilts her head. “You said we were going to have sex.”

“We are,” Draco insists, struggling not to grin. “But on _my_ terms. If you want to be claimed someday, you’ll have to learn to be more obedient.” He leaves off the ‘by me’ and ‘for me’ parts. Naturally, she doesn’t look particularly concerned.

She asks, “Can’t you claim me?”

Draco blushes immediately. Then he tries to school it away and tries to shut up his twisting stomach. Sometimes her honesty is refreshing, other times awkward. Right now he doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for, “It’s more complicated than that.”

She nods like she understands. In a more forward gesture than what’s usual for her, Luna lifts her leg up, her knee sliding between his thighs. She asks cutely, “Kiss me again?” She draws her other leg up—Draco shifts aside to part them and bend them, and then he climbs back between, looping each leg over his, one to either side of his torso. This scrunches up her skirt and presses her bottom into his crotch, and he growls while rubbing into it. Luna makes a delighted noise, lifting her chin up eagerly.

How could he deny a request like that? Draco descends on her, grinding his body down into hers, kissing her hard into the pillows. Luna’s arms wrap back around him, legs encircling his lower back. She’s still wearing her heels—they’re digging into his ass. He doesn’t stop kissing her when he reaches back, tugging them off. It’s an awkward angle, but he manages. While she’s supposed to be learning how to _not_ undress unless told, he’s taught how to undress his Omega in any position. He tosses the stilettos aside; her socks are much more comfortable. He slides his hands back down her legs, over her trim waist, up to her gorgeous breasts. There isn’t enough room between them to feel her up properly like he wants to. He switches their angle—kisses her ravenously, tilting forward, lifting up—her breasts seem to bounce free, and he squeezes them hard. Luna gasps into him—he kneads her soft flesh and runs his hands all over them. Her body is perfect, and he can play it so easily.

He notices belatedly that she’s slipped her fingers down to his waist, fiddling with the buckle of his belt. He pulls back, fully intent on backhanding her right across the face (because _really_ , she needs to learn), but he finds he can’t do it. Her fingers stop as soon as their lips part, and she looks up at him breathlessly, cheeks flushed and lashes heavy. Her platinum hair frames her like a halo, and he couldn’t hurt her if he wanted to.

So he sits up, still straddling her, and fiddles to undo his tie. As he slips it loose, he barks, “Hold your hands up.” She lifts them limply up into the air. “Together.” She clasps them together. He reaches out and wraps his tie around her wrists, shoving them back towards the headboard. There are three heavy, metal hoops attached to it, just for this purpose. He ties her to the one in the middle.

Rather than take it as punishment for her insolence, Luna sighs excitedly, “Ooh,” and tugs on them. He rolls his eyes but knows better than to start anything. He goes back to kissing her and this time does it himself—he undoes her shirt slowly button by button and slips the white fabric open. He runs his hands all over her exposed skin, down her taut stomach and around her smooth sides. Her bra, unfortunately, unclasps in the back, and he can’t get it off with her arms above her head. Without once breaking their kiss, Draco holds out his hand, casting a non-verbal Accio spell. His wand immediately flies into his hand, and with a simple tap, her bra disappears. Luna tilts her head to the side—he continues kissing her, just now on the corner of her mouth and all along her cheek. “Wh... what’d you do with it?”

“Never you mind,” Draco purrs, because he’s an Alpha and he doesn’t have to keep it safe or return it. He sent it to one of his drawers—the same place he keeps everything he’s taken from her, like the dirigible plum earrings she wore last time, which kept bobbing up into his face. Luna, for once, doesn’t push it. She just returns to kissing him properly, her naked breasts arching up into him.

Draco moans instantly. Of all the Omegas Draco’s tried, he likes her tits the best. They’re the perfect size for her body—large, but still perky, flawless and smooth. They’re heavy as they press into him, warm and ripe. He can feel her nipples rubbing into his jacket, and the fabric is too much. He doesn’t pull away as he undoes his jacket, and he sort of regrets tying her up—he always likes to make Omegas undress him. Luna makes a whining sound in the back of her throat while he kisses her—he thinks she likes to undress him too.

He slides the jacket over his shoulders, tossing it aside. Next he works down his shirt, but that he just opens, leaving it still on, like hers. The skin-on-skin friction is an immediate reward. For a moment, Draco just ruts into her, hungry and needy. Then he squeezes her tits again, loving the way they squish below his fingers, and he rolls her nipples in his palms, rubbing them even harder. She starts frantically humping him, and he parts their lips to purr into her ear, “Awfully needy today, aren’t you?”

“I’m in heat,” she answers simply and breathlessly. He kisses all along her jaw, fingers running down to his belt, and she moans, “That means you can get me pregnant, doesn’t it? Are you going to?”

If she were anyone else, that would totally kill the mood. But she’s _Luna_ and it doesn’t, and he growls before he can stop himself, “I’m going to try.” Because he doesn’t care what his father says—her blood’s pure and her body’s beautiful, and no one can make him smile like she can. It feels right when she’s beneath him, and with how proper he has to be all the time, he _likes_ a little bit of strange. He leans his forehead against hers, looking into her grey eyes. They’re bright and stunning, and she looks like she couldn’t be happier.

He pulls his belt out of the loops, tossing it aside. She sighs dreamily, “I’ll be a good Omega for you. I’ll make strawbermelon pie for you—you’ll love it.”

He grins and says, “Okay.” He doesn’t exactly know what that is, but he’s wandered in on her in class before, and she’s never technically made _bad_ food for him, just odd. He knows she’ll be good if he can only claim her, and he kisses her again while he unzips his fly.

She mewls desperately—he knows she wants to put her pretty hands inside his pants. But he doesn’t untie her. If she’s going to be his Omega, she does have to learn her place. Draco rolls up her skirt before he takes himself out—it’s already short and goes easily. He pulls back just to look at her panties—pink and almost sheer. The sides are made of lace and barely more than ribbons. He slides them down her thighs, sucking in breath.

Luna’s cunt is every bit as hot as the rest of her. It’s pink and small, with the barest hint of blonde tufts above it, and Luna squirms deliciously under the scrutiny. Draco’s completely hard just looking at it. He pulls out his cock and strokes it distractedly—Luna tries to lift her hips off the bed, arching towards it. Draco chuckles and presses it down towards her, rubbing the head around her entrance. He knows he doesn’t have to use any preparation; Luna’s always wet and ready for him. In heat, she should be even better. She practically purrs.

A part of Draco absently wonders if perhaps she misbehaves on purpose—perhaps she just wants detention with him. But that’s the arrogant, cynical side of himself. The other part knows she isn’t a good enough liar to do that; she’s genuinely deranged. And she knows he’d find a way to her anyway. He always does. He presses his cock into her slit and leans back down over her, arms sliding to either side. He bends in for a light, quick kiss.

He likes her lips free when he slams into her, hard and fast enough to make her scream. It’s so hard to get a rise out of her, and he loves turning her into a loud, wanton little thing in the bedroom, her pretty voice cracking with each gasp. He slides all the way inside her at once, as far as he can go. Her eyes squeeze shut and her lips part, cheeks flushed. He kisses her cheek and slides out, only to slam back in. 

Luna doesn’t fade. She shrieks on every thrust like it’s the first, and the heels of her feet dig tight into his back, as if urging him forward. Her channel is so tight and hot around him, wet and perfect, and it sucks at his cock like it wants him further inside. When it feels like she’s going to scream him death, he kisses her to shut her up, fucking her with both his tongue and dick. She kisses back as hard as she can. He sets a furious pace, brutally slamming her into the mattress, and her breasts jiggle gorgeously between them, pressed into his stomach so he can feel everything. He fucks her like this is what he was made for.

Any doubts he ever had about her fly right out the window. She’ll be the perfect Omega, he just knows, and even if she isn’t, she’s fucking _hot._ He feels like he’s marking her already, like he’s going to come all over and brand her as _his_ , and any other Alpha that tries to take her he’ll rip apart. The thought of someone else administering her detentions drives him mad; the thought of anyone else touching her makes his blood boil. She should be his, and he can hear the clank of the metal ring against the headboard as she struggles to get free. He doesn’t release her. She’s supposed to be getting punished, after all, and from the noises she’s making, she’s having entirely too much fun.

A part of Draco always wants to be _rough_ with her. He wants to punish her like she needs, throw her to the floor and tie her up properly, march her around with a collar and a leash. She’d let him, he knows. She never really _fights_ anything, but she just looks so innocent and pretty that he can never bring himself to hurt her. He puts all of his aggression into this instead—every thrust is sliding her up in the bed, pulling her back when he’s done. He fucks her like an animal, and the air is full of wet slapping sounds and them both panting around each other’s mouths. He runs his hands all over her body, squeezing her tits and tracing her waist. He runs his fingers up her neck and finger-combs through her hair, grabbing a handful and tugging it back. Luna gasps—Draco kisses his way down her chin to her neck.

He does want to mark her all over, but he’s only going to come inside her. He doesn’t want to miss this chance, even if he knows it isn’t right, not when she’s surrounded by hungry Alpha teachers. When she graduates, she’ll be exposed to hundreds of other Alphas, and he’s never been good at sharing. He needs to take this opportunity to fill her up while he can, while her body’s begging for it, so hot around him. In the meantime he bites her—he sinks his teeth into her throat and sucks, leaving childish, angry red marks all over her. Her choker’s in the way and he rips it off, Luna gasps again, but he tugs her hair in warning. He nips and sucks and licks over the wounds again, and then he runs his tongue up her jaw. He finds himself hissing in her ear, “You’re _mine._ ”

Luna tries to nod, but he’s holding her too tight. She mumbles, “ _D-Draco._ ”

She sounds utterly wrecked. Luna’s such a pretty thing to debauch, and he loves fucking her completely senseless. His name sounds perfect on her tongue. He covers her mouth with his own again, still pounding wildly into her. His hands run down to her ass, holding her tightly into him.

He doesn’t want it to end, but at the same time, he’s giddy to fill her. He can feel the familiar tingling in his cock before he’s ready, and he presses hard into her, not pulling out again. Luna writhes beneath him, impaled and open, and he pins her to bed as his knot starts to swell. Sometimes he wishes he could keep thrusting in and out until he finished, but now he’s grateful for his knot—he doesn’t want a single drop to spill. He kisses back down the side of her face as he grinds into her, getting bigger and bigger. She’s already so wondrously tight—it doesn’t feel like he should be able to fit. She whimpers and gasps as he splits her open, until he’s absolutely _huge_. The minute he stops growing, his balls tighten—he kisses her hard as he explodes inside her.

Luna isn’t far behind. His orgasm is still rippling through him like a tidal wave when she arches, screaming into his mouth and shuddering all around him. Her walls convulse and the pressure is amazing; it milks every last drop out of him. He kisses her and kisses her, grinds in and fills her, and she holds him in tight with her legs. He can feel her arms tensing around his head—he knows she wants to hold him. He doesn’t release her lips until he’s completely spent.

Then he collapses atop her, panting and sweaty. She mewls as his weight crushes her, breasts flattened against his chest, his cock still buried deep inside her. His knot stays, so he can’t pull out. There’s a moment where all either of them can do is struggle for air.

Then she mumbles, “D-Draco...” and he nods. He glances up and reaches for her wrists, quickly undoing his tie. He tosses it across the room, and as soon as he’s done, she lunges for him. She hugs him tight, fingers splaying over his back, as if to make up for lost time.

Draco reaches over in the bed for his wand. A flick and their clothes disappear, landing, folded, on the sofa across the room. Another flick and the sheets fly out from under them—Luna giggles. The sheets pull back above them, rearing overhead, and float gently back down. Holding Luna’s naked body against his, Draco rolls them onto their sides. He has enough pillows for both of them, but Luna shuffles forward onto his, her legs still wrapped awkwardly around him. The blankets are a spell she particularly likes. He tosses his wand back to the nightstand before pecking her on the nose. He brushes her hair back, as he murmurs, “You’ll tell me if you feel any changes, alright?”

She nods, sighing, “I hope they’re twins.” It takes him a second to realize what she means. He’d be happy with anything, really, but he thinks he might like a boy. When she opens her mouth, he’s half expecting her to start listing off baby names, moving ridiculously too fast. Instead she mumbles, “I want to go again.”

He laughs. He definitely likes Luna in heat. He’ll need a bit of time though, and he wants to give her body time to adjust first. He needs his knot to go back down, or the orgasm won’t be as good on the next round. He thumbs her cheek fondly, drawling, “We’ll take breaks in between, but I don’t have to return you until morning, and I’m happy to fuck you all night.” The more he puts in her the better chance her body will take it, and even though he’s in the post-orgasm haze with the high down, he still wants to mate with her. He still wants to claim her. She runs her fingers along his collarbone, looking blissfully content.

After a few minutes of quiet, Luna mumbles dreamily, “Will you buy me a house when you claim me?”

Smirking, Draco explains, “That’s not how it works, Luna.”

“I know. ...Will you buy me one anyway? I want one shaped like a castle.” Before he can interject with how inadequate she would be at cleaning an entire castle, she continues, “Or maybe a rook.” He laughs—he had the wrong kind of castle.

He finds himself nodding, even though he shouldn’t. This seems to be the right thing to do—she snuggles into his arms and melts against him, beaming like a star. There’s something inside him that always wants to make her happy, and she murmurs against him, “You didn’t punish me. I’m supposed to be being punished, aren’t I?”

Feeling too satiated, Draco shrugs. “I tied you up, didn’t I?”

“I liked that,” she giggles. “You should fuck me harder.”

“You’d like that, too.”

“I hope I have your child.” It’s a completely conversation switch, but that’s Luna.

He says, “Me too,” and kisses her.


End file.
